90,000 Years of Longevity

After taking out the black paper, the coachman walked to Ye Bei.

His body was sweating profusely because he pulled the cart all the year round, his hands were full of dead calluses, for this kind of people, no matter what they do, they would use force habitually.

However, when he took out the black paper, his movements were very gentle and cautious, for fear that it might be torn.

Ye Bei took the black paper, his complexion didn't fluctuate, and he placed it on the table.

When the coachman saw this, the silly smile on his face appeared again, "I have delivered the stuff. But I don't understand the art of this shop..."

Ye Bei didn't answer.

The coachman stood at the table and didn't mean to leave. Instead, he continued to chatter, "A person like me, being able to live on this world is already good enough, and to make money to support the family can already make me contented. It's the same for the rest of my life, born without bringing anything with, die without taking anything with. I don't want to leave anything behind to pass down through the ages either. I just want my family to live harmoniously and it's worth all my life..."

Hearing this, Ye Bei's eyes were leisurely, and then he said softly, "Be born and live on."

"Yeah... It's like these calligraphies and paintings. It's nothing more than leaving some scenery. It looks good, but it's not useful. It's not as good as a photo studio, sir, you are so young, you can consider changing your job..." The coachman didn't seem to hear, and he continued.

"No need." Ye Bei's voice was faint.

The coachman laughed, he always felt that Ye Bei was very mysterious, but he was too cold.

He scratched the back of his head and didn't know how to continue the conversation.

After a few seconds of silence, the coachman's eyes lit up before he continued, "Yes, sir... that, regarding the person who gave me this paper, there is one more word for me to bring you."

"I've been waiting for you to say it." Ye Bei answered calmly.

The coachman was a little confused, so I thought, could this young man really predict something that was going to happen?

But soon the coachman was indifferent again.

He just needed to take care of himself, as for other things, he would worry less if he could.

"That person's word is very strange, and I don't really understand... Well, the original sentence is like this: tell him, the Old Deceased is waiting for you." The coachman said seriously, with a lot of doubts in his eyes, always feeling a little confused.

"I know." Ye Bei nodded indifferently, without the slightest surprise, but his thoughts, at this moment, were drifting far.

Ninety thousand years ago.

Mount Tai, above the peak of the mountain, a young man stood quietly, the cold wind was bleak, the white clouds were at his waist.

A typical mountain husband with a load carried on his shoulders and face streaming with sweat, handed out a piece of paper, and placed it respectfully beside the boy.

The man lamented that life is not easy.

That person was also very capable...

"Great Immortal, someone asked me to tell you, the Old Deceased is also waiting for you."

But in the end, the mountain husband said such a word with no reason. Then he went down the mountain silently, never seeing him again.

Seventy thousand years ago.

In a small southern town, a young man was fishing by the river. The sun was scorching and under the shade of the trees, but it was a bit cold somehow.

A fisherman, drenched in sweat, paddled a flatboat, rippled on the lake, came quietly as he handed a bamboo slip, and placed it next to Ye Bei.

The man lamented the hardships of fishing.

That person was also satisfied with the status quo of his life and felt that his life was worthwhile.

"Immortal, someone asked me to tell you, the Old Deceased is also waiting for you."

The same words appeared, but Ye Bei didn't take it seriously. With a move of his wrist, a fish hooked.

Two thousand years ago.

Xianyang City Tower, there was a young man in a white long gown, the strong wind outside the Great Wall made his clothes rustle.

A patrol soldier in armor guarding the city, with dark skin, handed a piece of silk cloth and gently placed it next to the young man.

The man sighed with emotion.

The man just wanted to spend his life normally, marry a wife, and have children.

"My lord, someone asked me to tell you, the Old Deceased is also waiting for you." The soldier spoke respectfully, then he turned and left.

Back to the gallery.

Seeing that Ye Bei had been silent, the coachman turned around and was about to leave.

Ye Bei sat at the table, and all the six pictures overlapped…

"Even if we meet, we should not know..."

After a long time, Ye Bei sighed and slowly recovered, but there was no ripple on his face. He looked at the coachman who had reached the door. He was determined to break the cycle, and asked softly, "The person who gave you this paper... what does he look like?"

The coachman who had already reached the door suddenly stopped when he heard this.

"His appearance? I can't remember..."

Looking back at Ye Bei, the coachman thought for a few seconds and found that he couldn't remember the person's appearance no matter how hard he tried to think.

"Okay." Ye Bei nodded. He knew that even if he asked, he could not get anything out of it, but he still asked.

This coachman was just a messenger.

"Here is a painting, which is a collection in this gallery... You sent me this paper today, then I will give this painting to you... It's just some about cause and effect." Ye Bei murmured, while speaking, the half of the painting of "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" that slipped to the ground, miraculously floated.

Then, without using any force, it flew in the direction of the coachman.

"This…" The coachman stared hard.

He was just a mortal, where had he seen such a weird situation?

Thump…

When he exclaimed, his legs softened, and he knelt on the ground with a plop.

"Immor… Immortal? Is this the magic of immortal?" His voice quavered, but his hands stretched out instinctively and took the painting.

Seeing this, Ye Bei moved his index finger lightly.

The coachman's shocked expression became dazed.

Holding the painting in both hands, he walked out of the gallery dumbly.

When the coachman walked to the front of his cart, his eyes returned to normal.

"Huh? When did I have an extra painting in my hand?" He felt something in his hand. He opened it and took a look. It was very strange, but he couldn't remember it. He felt that the painting was very beautiful and the style was quiet as if it was in line with his comfortable life, he immediately shook his head, "Forget it, I shouldn't worry about it... This painting is not bad, when I have time, I can find a frame to decorate it and hang it at home."

After that, the coachman rolled up the painting and placed it in the storage drawer of the cart.

Then, his two strong hands pulled the cart away.

Although it was getting late, he was still running fast on the Ancient Street, waiting for the next customer.

His life had always repeated in this way, but the coachman did not feel boring. In his opinion, every customer had a different story... This might be the only thing besides pulling the cart to make money that could make his life more enjoyable.

...

Creak!

When the coachman left, Ye Bei's finger moved slightly and the gallery door closed automatically.

At the same time, the candlelight in the lobby was also lit instantly, illuminating the place brightly.

Ye Bei sat at the table, his eyes faint...

After a long time, he put away the portrait of the Old Deceased on the table.

Then he reached out and picked up the black paper.

That black paper was originally folded twice.

Ye Bei's eyes were indifferent and his movements were graceful. With a move of his fingertips, the black paper was all unfolded.

However, on the black paper, there were no words, and no other content could be seen either... But Ye Bei took it seriously.